Last Night
by Keitorin Asthore
Summary: Her children were her life. They had never been apart from her for more than a day. She kissed Katara’s soft cheek and then the top of Sokka’s head before drifting off to sleep. What happened the night their mother died? One shot. COMPLETE.


Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to Bryan Konietzko, Michael Dante DiMartino, and Nickelodeon, not me.

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The sudden motion startled Yonah. She bolted upright, reaching for the short sword her husband kept by the bed. "Who's there?" she hissed, trying not to wake her children.

"Mommy?"

Yonah dropped the sword. No Fire Nation soldier would ever call her Mommy. "Sokka?" she whispered.

Her son knelt at the foot of her bed, his eyes wide. "Mommy, I had a bad dream," he stage-whispered.

Yonah smiled and held out her arms. "Come here, dear-heart," she said. Sokka crawled rapidly to her and hurtled into her embrace. Yonah snuggled him against her. His hair flopped in his eyes; she smoothed it back and kissed his forehead. "What was your dream?"

He pulled back a little and squinted. "Well, now I can't remember," he said in consternation.

"My silly warrior," she laughed softly. "But since you're here, you might as well get Katara."

"Do I have to?" Sokka asked.

"Yes," Yonah said, sternly but smiling. "Go wake up Little Sister." Sokka scrambled off the bed. Yonah smiled and rubbed her arm. The winter nights were freezing, and usually she slept next to her husband to stay warm, but it was his turn to stand guard at the coast. She was cold, and lonely, and her arms ached for her children.

"I got her, Mommy," Sokka said, dragging his younger sister behind him. Katara's shoulders drooped, and she looked so sleepy she seemed about to cry.

"Oh, Katara," she crooned. She scooped up her daughter and held her close. Katara drowsily wrapped her arms around her mother's neck. She fingered Yonah's necklace, running her fingers over the smooth carved surface.

Sokka crawled back onto the bed. "Is there still room for me?" he begged.

"Of course," Yonah said. She laid down gently, trying not wake her daughter, and gathered her son to her side. Sokka snuggled against her. Yonah tucked the blankets around them. She idly petted their hair. Her children were her life. They had never been apart from her for more than a day. When she walked around the village, they clung to her skirts. When she made dinner, they played- or fought- nearby. When Katara practiced water bending and Sokka practiced with the warriors, she sat on the sidelines, watching like a hawk. She kissed Katara's soft cheek and then the top of Sokka's head before drifting off to sleep.

A few hours later the bedroom door flap opened. "I see you found a replacement for me."

Yonah opened one eye and smiled at her husband. "Sokka had a bad dream," she said.

Hakoda bent over her. "And that's why both of our children are in our bed," he smiled. He kissed her forehead.

"It's so cold, Hakoda, I didn't want any of us to freeze," she protested.

"Oh, well." He laid down, sandwiching Katara between himself and his wife. "I suppose it's all right."

Hakoda kissed the back of Katara's head, then reached over her to stroke Yonah's arm. She smiled. It seemed like she had barely closed her eyes when-

"Fire Nation! Fire Nation troops!"

Hakoda bolted upright. Katara yelped. "Hakoda, what-"

"I've got to go," he said. Sokka and Katara both sat up, their eyes wide and frightened.

"Mommy?" Katara quavered. Hakoda snatched up his sword and ran out. "Mommy, what's happening?"

Yonah gathered her shaking children close. "It's all right, it's all right," she soothed. "Daddy's going to keep us safe."

Sokka wrapped his arms tightly around her neck. Katara clung to her waist. They both whimpered, burying their faces against her. Yonah couldn't seem to hold them tight enough. From outside they heard faint crackles and booms of fire and shouting of warriors and soldiers. The noise came closer and closer. Yonah's heart pounded.

"Sokka, Katara," Yonah whispered. "We're going to hide, all right? Just to stay safe." She stood up, taking them by the hands and gathering up blankets and pillows. Yonah led them to the back rooms and into a small closet where they usually kept their fishing and hunting gear. She pushed the two children inside. "Stay here."

"Mommy, aren't you coming in too?" Katara quavered.

Yonah's heart broke. She bent and kissed their round cheeks, still warm and flushed with sleep. "Just a moment, my loves. I'm going to make sure I have your father's sword. I'll be right back, I promise." She ran her fingers through their hair. "Sokka, you protect Little Sister, all right? And Katara, take care of your brother." She cupped her hands under their chins, then shut the door.

She ran back through the rooms, her bare feet slipping on the fur floor coverings. _Hakoda's sword, I need Hakoda's sword_. She knelt beside the bed, patting for the familiar cold handle.

The door flap tore away. A soldier loomed above her, glowering. "The Fire Nation is going to claim this tribe," he declared. "You are ordered to turn over anything of value to the coffers of the Fire Lord."

"I have nothing of value," Yonah stammered.

He tapped his sword against the pendant at her neck. "That looks suitable."

"It's only a carved moonstone," she protested.

"Then I'll find something else of value," he said. He strode through the house, tearing the skins from the walls and knocking over the few pieces of furniture.

Yonah scrambled to her feet. Her toes nudged against Hakoda's sword; she snatched it up and stumbled after the soldier. "Please, I'll find you something, just-"

Her heart thudded to the floor. The solider's gauntleted hand reached for the closet door. "No!" she screamed. "No, there's nothing of value in there!" She tugged, limp-fingered, at the necklace. "Please, just take this and go!"

The soldier pulled open the door. Sokka and Katara tumbled to the floor. "Well, we have some little brats," he sneered. "I'm sure the Fire Lord's children would want playmates for target practice. Slaves are always valuable." He grabbed at their arms. Katara let out a startled scream and began to cry.

"Let go of her!" Sokka bellowed. He kicked at the soldier's knee. He scowled and cuffed Sokka across the temple. The child tumbled the ground. Katara cried harder.

"Don't touch him!" Yonah screamed. She fell to her knees and reached for her unconscious son.

"He's property of the Fire Nation," the soldier said. "Keep your hands off." He gripped the children's arms tighter. Katara sobbed, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

Yonah grabbed the hilt of her husband's sword. "Let go of my children!" she shouted. She lunged towards him. The sword hit armor with a loud clang. It startled him enough that he let go. Katara darted away and grabbed Sokka by the shoulders, dragging him away.

The soldier snarled. "You little-" Yonah desperately flung the sword at him. He dodged, knocking it away.

Yonah didn't feel the initial stab, only a white-hot searing pain between her ribs. She gasped, falling to her knees.

"Don't touch her," Hakoda growled. Dimly she saw her husband leap over her and grapple with the soldier. Her head rolled, and she stared at the ceiling.

"Mommy? Are you all right?" Katara whispered.

Yonah reached up and touched her daughter's cheek. "My baby," she whispered. "Is your brother all right?"

Sokka leaned over her, a large bruised rapidly darkening the side of his head. "I'm okay," he said.

Yonah reached for them, ignoring the sudden stab of pain, and pulled them to her. They nestled their heads on her shoulders, too scared to cry. With every pump of her heart, more blood spilled from the wound in her side and onto her children.

"Yonah," Hakoda whispered. His dark eyes glittered. "Yonah, he can't hurt you anymore."

She smiled weakly. "I knew you would come save us," she said. She wrapped a long tendril of Katara's dark hair around her finger. "Our children are safe."

"You kept them safe," he said.'

"Daddy, is Mommy going to be all right?" Sokka asked.

Hakoda's mouth twisted as he pressed his hand against the wound in Yonah's side. "No," he said. "No, son, she's not."

Yonah stared up at her husband. "You know I love you."

"Always," Hakoda said. "Always, always, Yonah."

She smiled. "Can you hand me my necklace?" Hakoda pressed it into her hand. She draped it over Katara's neck. "Wear this every day, my love," she whispered. Katara nodded, pressing her tear-damp face into her mother's shoulder.

Hakoda sat behind his wife, cradling her head on his lap. Sokka and Katara snuggled in her arms, accepting her weak kisses and pressing their own on her cheeks and forehead. Yonah's blood seeped into their clothes; her life faded away slowly. When the sun rose over the icebergs, tinting them gold and pink, she was gone.

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**Author's Note:**

I know this has been done to death, but I wanted to give it my own spin.

I love Yonah's name. It's Hebrew (bwahaha, break the "bad-Japanese-name" cycle) and it means "peaceful." I thought that suited the character I had in mind. I've always imagined Sokka and Katara's mother with a quick, sweet smile, a calm nature, and a fierce devotion to her children.

Speaking of children…how old were they when their mother died? It's never specified. You get the feeling it wasn't terribly recent, but Sokka says in "Bato of the Water Tribe" that they haven't seen their father in two years, meaning he was thirteen and Katara was eleven when Hakoda left. But in the flashback, Sokka looks considerably younger. Besides, who knows how much time passed between Yonah's death and Hakoda's departure. So I kept their ages ambiguous, but I imagine the two anywhere between five and nine years old.


End file.
